


Wilford's Spiral

by iputajinxonyou



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Gen, Heavy Angst, Mental Breakdown, Post-Who Killed Markiplier?, Sad, Short, Unhappy Ending, Who Killed Markiplier?, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iputajinxonyou/pseuds/iputajinxonyou
Summary: Wilford Warfstache has a mental breakdown and spirals sometime after the events of 'Who Killed Markiplier?'.Relatively short fic, around 450 words.
Kudos: 4





	Wilford's Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Very light mentions of death, the main character has a mental breakdown.

Silence. That’s how it all started; just a little bit of quiet that lasted a little too long. Wilford had been sitting in the main room of the manor when his breakdown hit him. He was alone, his cries being the only thing that filled the quiet room now. He was helplessly trapped inside his mind, with no one around to help him out. Wilford gripped what was once Damien’s cane, cradling it to his chest as he sobbed out for anyone to help him. Split-second flashes of That Night flickered through his head as he desperately tried to remember, though he might as well be grasping at smoke and watching as it slipped through his fingers.

“Why can’t they come home? I miss them so much.” He didn’t even know who he missed, all he knew is that he wanted them back, and that only made him spiral down further. Wilford ran his hands through his hair frantically, tugging and pulling and hitting his head.

“Come… _back_!” He cried out into the empty room, the cane dropping to the ground as he fell to his knees, throat raw from sobbing and screaming. He curled up into himself, weak whimpers and cries leaving him as his grip on reality started to slip away. Wilford’s mind felt like it was splitting and tearing apart, as if he were going insane all over again; not that he would remember the first time.

He stood shakily; his vision blurred with steadily falling tears. He almost collapsed against the wall nearest to him, which happened to be the same one the mirror was stood on. He looked at himself through the cracked glass, a sad but manic smile on his face,

“…Who am I?” He whispered out as more sobs wracked through his already broken form. Wilford repeated the words over and over and over again, voice growing louder as he spiraled further down his rabbit hole of madness, “Who am I? Who am I?? WHO AM I??” His voice was a wail, shattered and terrified as he yelled out at nobody. His mind conjured up images of the Colonel, of his own memories as Wilford, they were all blurred together and torn apart. The two men that were one in the same, yet forever apart.

“Help… me…” He searched through the manor, desperate for somebody… anybody to help him through his cracked and fragile state. He limped through every room, loosing more and more of himself- his identity- as he did. He crumbled down at the entrance of what used to be his bedroom- Wilford didn’t remember that anymore- as a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He fell into a slumber filled with nightmares and horrid memories, unknowing and uncaring if he would wake up the same man.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr: @i-put-a-jinx-on-you


End file.
